


Don't Play Cupid if You Can't Handle Being Shot in the Butt

by EllBoots



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, some of those relationship tags are background, this is a donut and doc-centric fic because HELL YEAH
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:52:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllBoots/pseuds/EllBoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donut is throwing a party. It's going to be the best party ever. Unfortunately, his friends are distracting him by being hopelessly in love and not admitting it. Something must be done!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Do you like the title? I like the title. 
> 
> Hey guys, I really wanted to write a Donut fic because I adore Donut with all my heart and soul and I feel like he fits best into a classic High School AU. 
> 
> Would you believe this is the first HSAU i've ever written? I'm sorry, I have no idea how the American school system works so I hope there aren't too many mistakes!
> 
> Anyway, just writing the first few chapters has taken a long long while so i'm uploading the Prologue now and won't update until i've written a bit more. Hopefully now that it's summer that won't take too long.
> 
> Enjoy, please let me know what you think =)

Donut slid quietly into the chair next to Doc in the library. His uncharacteristically low-key entrance caught Doc’s attention, so he lay his book down on the table and cast his best friend a worried look over the top of his glasses.

“Donut? Is everything--?” before he could finish his sentence Donut had answered the question by slamming his head down on to the desk with a groan, causing several other students to glance around in annoyance and confusion. Doc sighed.

“Want to go get lunch?” he asked, knowing whatever was bothering his friend would be best discussed in an environment where judgment wouldn’t be passed on loud noises. Donut nodded, insomuch as he dragged his face up and down the table. Doc frowned at him before standing and packing his books away into his bag, but Donut hadn’t yet moved, even to lift his head. Doc sighed again, scratching his nose under the bridge of his glasses and hoisting is bag firmly onto his shoulder before he forcefully dragged his friend from his seat. With another dramatic groan he was vertical, and with a final pat on the back they made their way to the cafeteria.

Doc kept a close eye on the other boy as the sat down at their usual table; knowing it was only a matter of time before he couldn’t hold in what was bothering him any more, so he waited patiently. After not very long at all Donut began to fidget in his seat, frequent sighs accompanied by glances at Doc to check he was still paying attention. His friend, however, had gone back to reading.

“It’s just driving me crazy, you know?” he finally burst out. Doc looked up from his book.

“What is?” he asked, although he had already guessed.

“Grif and Simmons, of course!” Donut threw his hands into the air, his expression anguished. Doc could have laughed at the melodrama but he knew it would have upset him.

“Of course.” he said instead, nodding sagely at the blond boy.

“They’re just so darn _stubborn_ ,” Donut said, clearly exasperated and no longer paying attention to Doc, “Y’know, it’s just _so obvious_ that they’re made for each other but they keep fighting it! I don’t know what else to do!” he wailed, throwing himself down on the table.

Doc knew that Donut had been trying for weeks now to set up their friends with no luck. He had organized movie trips where everyone else had mysteriously dropped out at the last minute, given them coupons for a romantic meal at a seafood restaurant that Donut couldn’t use because of his shellfish allergy, and had even resorted to hanging mistletoe around his house and inviting them over.

Donut had, of course, dragged Doc along to stalk them on their various “dates”, so he had seen first hand Donut’s horror when the two picked the latest comedy filled with fart jokes to see, and hadn’t even sat next to each other. Instead, they had left a seat in between them free, which was piled high with food. They were almost kicked out of the restaurant for flicking shrimps at each other and disturbing the other patrons by shouting “Eat shrimp, scum!” and “That’s a langoustine you uncivilized fuck!” while crouching under the table. Donut had almost cried. The movie night mistletoe plot had failed when Simmons caught sight of the small plant and removed it before Donut had even got them drinks, reminding him it was bad luck to leave Christmas decorations up this late in the year. Donut had sulked all the way through the movie, even Lizzie and Darcy’s epic love story doing nothing for his terrible mood.

Doc hesitated. He knew exactly what he could do to make his frustrated best friend feel better, but he also had a sneaking suspicion he would end up regretting it. The sad sight of Donut flopped on the lunch table- undercut not trimmed in weeks; pink nail polish chipped- was enough for Doc to overcome his doubts. He sighed again anyway, for good measure.

“Hey, Frankie?” he said, placing his hand on his friend’s shoulder. Donut turned his head slightly to look up at Doc, a truly miserable expression on his face. Doc steeled himself, “How about you take a break from the matchmaking,” he pushed on before Donut could protest, “and throw a party? You know, cheer yourself up. Have some fun.”

Doc saw Donut’s baby blue eyes widen at the suggestion and before he could say anything else the blond had jumped up from his seat, enthusiasm practically making him sparkle.

“You’re right, Doc! That is exactly what I need. I’ll throw the best summer bash this school has ever seen!” his loud voice was drawing the attention of some of the other students, but Donut was already in a world of his own, staring off into space, his eyes bright with determination.

“And no matchmaking?” Doc reminded him.

“You don’t need matchmaking to have fun at one of _my_ parties,” Donut said, almost offended except for the excitement in his voice, “Come on Frankie, let’s go start planning!”  

Doc smiled, happy to see his friend back to his usual self. He got up to follow Donut, who was already halfway across the cafeteria, practically skipping through the students. Doc jogged after him, thinking fondly about the things he did for his best friend.

Donut went home at the end of that day elated. Yes, Grif and Simmons were driving him insane. Yes, it had already taken him double the time getting them together than it had done for York and Carolina or Church and Tex. It had really been getting him down, but now Doc had given him the best distraction _ever._

Donut reached his bedroom; door adorned with his name surrounded by flowers and sparkles, and threw his bag down on bed, knocking off a few of the stuffed toys in his excitement. He jogged to his desk, moving aside teetering pile of Cosmo magazines that dominated it, a few sliding on to the floor. With much more care, Donut moved the picture of him and Doc to the back of his desk, safely tucked inside his homemade ‘BFF’ frame. He smiled fondly at it, thinking about how much he appreciated his friend for knowing how to make him feel better.

He yanked open one of the desk drawers and pulled out a battered, highly decorated binder that trailed confetti and ribbons as it was slammed down on the desk. Inside, Donut reviewed his part planning history, guest feedback, unused themes and detailed ideas for future events. He immediately relaxed. _Matchmaking,_ Donut thought derisively, _Way too much stress_. He quickly began to write up a to do list, then got started on invitations.


	2. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Invites. Intrigue. Another word that begins with I.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2! We're getting to stuff, I promise =P Hope you like!

The next day, Donut practically skipped into his first class and threw himself down into the chair next to Doc with a happy sigh. Doc raised an eyebrow.

“You seem in a better today,” he said, trying not to smile.

“I most certainly am!” Donut trilled, emptying his bag out onto the desk and appearing content that the confused pile of pens, straggly bits of paper, assorted ribbons and glitter would be sufficient to get him through their history class.

He reached into a pocket and from it withdrew a shocking pink, glitter-smeared and, Doc suspected, scented envelope. With a grin so wide it looked as if it would split his face in two, he thrust the letter at Doc, inadvertently sprinkling some of the glitter onto the other boy’s lap.

“Party?” Doc said, half-apprehensive, half-amused. Donut nodded, widening his eyes and looking almost deranged.

“Party.” He whispered, watching Doc open the envelope intensely, practically vibrating in his seat.

The envelope, predictably, contained an overly ornate invitation to the aforementioned party. It proclaimed, in cursive golden letters, that he was cordially invited to “The Blood Gulch High Summer Bash!!!” to be held at Donut’s house that Saturday. Outwardly, Doc wouldn’t let his excitement show. After all, he was quite against excessive drinking, a stance he held even more since Donut’s birthday party (which no-one would ever let him forget). But he knew a party thrown by Donut was guaranteed to be a success, and a lot of fun no matter how much you drank.

“Okay, well consider this my RSVP,” he said, slipping the invite into his bag.

“Yessssss!” Donut was clearly beside himself with anticipation for the event. Doc allowed himself to be momentarily proud of cheering up his best friend, feeling the warm bubble he got when Donut was happy rise in his chest. The teacher walked through the door, apologizing for his lateness even though he hadn’t been to a class on time all year. Doc smiled to himself, seeing Donut still fidgeting next to him, eager to get the class over with and continue announcing his “Summer Bash” to their friends.

* * *

 

Donut took off at a sprint when class ended, grabbing Doc by the wrist so that he could catch Church, Tucker and Caboose outside their Algebra class. Predictably, the teacher had let them out a few minutes late, so when they reached them they were just leaving, Tucker bitching at Church about how pointless math was anyway. I mean, when you have a face like this, who needs to be smart? Amirite? Church looked as if he had just woken up from a nap, which he probably had. Caboose was still hopelessly confused and would be for at least the next five minutes, after which he would entirely forget whatever it was they had been supposed to learn.

All in all, Doc didn’t think that this was the best moment to ambush the Blues with Donut’s legendary enthusiasm but obviously Donut had other ideas.

“Hey guyyys!” Donut waved cheerfully at the miserable looking Blues.

“Yeah, it’s not like we don’t all know why you’re in a bad mood anyway, dumbass—oh, hey Donut.” Church said with a yawn.

“Hey Donut, and what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Tucker replied, not turning away from Church to greet the other student.

“Leave it, Tucker,” said Church who, although sounding bored, managed to glare Tucker into submission, “So what’s up?” he asked, turning to Donut.

There was half a second of hesitation that caused Doc to look to his friend. To his horror, Donut’s eyes were bright and Doc could almost see the cogs in his brain churning up the snippet of conversation they had just heard and fixing the information into such a way as it became invaluable gossip, and the next project for investigation. He felt himself go cold at the realization.

“Invites!” squealed Donut, back to his usual, chipper self. Doc couldn’t tell if anyone else had noticed his friend’s momentary lapse, Church and Tucker looked interested whilst Caboose was still staring blankly down at his notebook.

“Ooh, another Donut party?” asked Tucker, who eagerly took the envelope, blind to the colour and decoration through sheer long-term exposure to Donut’s friendship, “Make sure there are plenty of chicks there again, huh?” he said waggling his eyebrows. Over the years, Doc couldn’t help but pick up some of Donut’s habits of detecting gossip, mainly to gauge what his friend would be fixating on next. So he noticed how Church rolled his eyes at Tucker’s statement, which wouldn’t have been unusual apart from the conversation that had just passed. Doc saw Donut’s eyes narrow ever so slightly, and his dread increased. 

“Who’s invited?” asked Church, swearing when the act of opening the invite covered him in glitter.

“Oh, the usual,” Donut replied with a flippant wave, “I’ll go get the rest of the Reds after this and then hit the library and find the others before lunch. Can you all make it?” Church looked at him sarcastically.

“Yeah, Frank, because we have so many other friends.” Donut wrinkled his nose at the name.

“Church, _please_ never call me Frank. Tucker?”

“I mean I’ll have to check that none of my ladies were expecting me this weekend but I’m pretty sure I can make it.”

“Caboose?”

There was a pause where everyone turned to look at the tall teenager still standing behind Church.

“Hey, buddy. Donut’s having a party on Saturday.” said Church quietly, nudging Caboose in the ribs. Watching Caboose come to was like seeing a robot boot up, all the lights coming on behind his eyes and back straightening slightly as he took in all the people that weren’t there before.

“A party with Mister PopTart?! Oh my God!” his childlike face broke out into an excited smile, every trace of worry gone from his features.

“Awesome!” Donut hopped with happiness, “Okay, we have to go catch the Reds, see you guys at lunch!”

The meeting with Grif and Simmons went much the same. They found them at the back of the school, skipping gym class. Grif was on his third cigarette and second bag of Cheetos, Simmons was sitting next to him doing extra work for his chemistry class. They took the invites and confirmed their attendance, and Donut’s enthusiasm increased exponentially although he surely must have known everyone was free.

“Think it’ll be anything like Donut’s birthday party, Doc?” asked Grif, waggling his eyebrows as Simmons spluttered with laughter. Doc just glared at them, unwilling to make the situation any worse for himself.

“Anyway, see you guys at lunch!” the last thing Donut and Doc saw before taking off to go find the rest of their friends was Simmons giving a spirited impression of violently throwing up and Grif howling with laughter.

Finally, they reached the library with five minutes to go before lunch. Doc had tried to reason that they might as well wait until they were all sitting together at lunch and, in fact, they could have just waited until lunch to give out all the invitations instead of running around the whole school like lunatics. But Donut was having none of it; he was too far-gone into his party mindset to listen to reason.

They jumped the last few steps of the stairs and wheeled around the corner to the entrance of the library. They couldn’t help but stand for a minute, out of breath but giggling, and leaning up against each other. Then Donut tilted his head up slightly as they heard Carolina’s voice from through the arch that lead to the library. Peering round, they could see her talking with CT and York.

“I’m just kinda worried about him, y’know? He seems really down about it.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” said CT with a sigh, “I thought he’d be over it or do something about it at least, but he’s just getting more and more miserable.”

“Poor guy,” York interjected, “I know I’ve known him forever but, honestly, I’ve never seen Wash this bad over a crush.”

Doc and Donut turned to each other with wide eyes. Despite not wanting to aggravate his friend’s gossip-mongering tendencies, Doc was just as interested in this particular bit of gossip. Donut’s eyes were alight with the new information, but the moment was broken as Carolina rounded the corner. Donut let out a shriek and shot up, head-butting Doc so hard that he fell backwards into the wall. While Donut was babbling apologies and Doc was repeatedly insisting he was fine, the rest of Carolina’s group rounded the corner, who all looked with interest at the confusion the two other students were embroiled in.

“Um?” Carolina got their attention, although Donut was still fussing, “Did we catch you kids making out or something?” Doc blushed bright red and jerked away from Donut.

“N-no, nothing like that!” stuttered Donut, “We were looking for you!”

“O-kaay, well you found us. No need to shit yourselves about it.”

Donut, as usual, recovered from embarrassment in record time, digging into his bag to retrieve the invites. Once they were all handed out and the assurances of attendance duly noted, the group headed to lunch.


	3. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this is going REALLY SLOWLY GUYS. I'm sorry if it takes forever to update again, hope you like it!

When the group had reached the cafeteria the Reds and Blues had already snagged a table with room to spare, so the latecomers hurriedly got their food and rushed to join their friends. The only one not at the table was Wash. The others settled in, and it wasn’t long before conversation turned to the party. Donut beamed throughout the talk, no one able to deny the fact that it was going to be a good time. Donut happily watched his friends- Grif and Simmons now both mimicking projectile vomiting, Maine was signing to CT about being their designated driver, Church and Tex were flicking food at each other, South was already bitching about having nothing to wear while North rolled his eyes, and Tucker— oh. Donut’s brow furrowed. Tucker was looking down, picking at his food and hardly talking to anyone. But why would—

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.” Tucker’s head snapped up at the sound of Wash’s voice. Wash slid into the seat next to York and immediately began eating, not talking to anyone. Carolina and CT shared a worried glance, and after a meaningful look from North, York engaged him in conversation about the party, Donut handing over one of the invites. He noticed how Church had immediately checked to see Tucker’s reaction to Wash’s arrival, but he had bowed his head low, seemingly focused on eating but with a distracted look in his eye and a crease in his brow.  After the invite had been handed over there was a moment of awkward silence.

Donut tried to keep track of the looks, nods and shrugs, but it appeared that everyone at the table was having their own private conversations. He thought that Wash looked tired. Well, Wash was like Church in that the bags under his eyes were permanent accessories, but he looked more tired than usual. Donut understood why his friends were worried.

The tension was broken when Tex casually flicked mash potato into Church’s hair, making the Blue shriek and swear and the rest of them hoot with laughter. Tucker immediately brightened up, sticking peas into the mushy mess on the back of his friend’s head and down his shirt. Church wheeled around with a yell and pushed Tucker off his seat. The tussle was a welcome distraction, Carolina muttered something about “hanging around with these children” but she had an amused smirk on her face. Next to her, York was almost crying with laughter, banging his fists on the table for extra effect.

Doc, predictably, tried to help Maine and Wash pull the two squabbling teenagers apart, but they were both laughing so hard it wasn’t a difficult job. Maine had picked Church up clean off of the floor and set him standing upright again before wandering back to his seat without so much as changing his expression. Doc patted Church on the back (who was still bent double with laughing), and returned to where he had been sitting.

That left Wash, who despite his previously miserable exterior, was giggling, still with his arms around Tucker’s waist where he’d dragged him off the floor. Tucker was cackling, supporting himself against Wash, one hand on his arm. Then Tucker turned, obviously to face whoever had their arms wrapped around him, and was suddenly inches from Washington’s face. They paused there, startled, grins fading slowly from their lips. Tucker’s hand slid down Wash’s arm like he was going to back away, but he paused as it brushed against the other boy’s wrist. Donut stared at the pair slack-jawed, this was something straight out of one of his romance novels, and was that his imagination or did Tucker just _glance down at Wash’s lips_? This should be the point where someone yelled “Gay!” and started throwing shit, but it wasn’t happening. Instead, the group was staring at them, all wide-eyed.

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch, Tucker and Wash sprang apart, red-faced, and immediately took off, everyone else scrambling to follow. The table cleared rapidly, leaving Doc tugging on Donut’s shirtsleeve trying to get him up. Donut sat, shell-shocked, staring at where Tucker and Wash had been standing.

“Holy _shit_.”

* * *

 

Donut’s bedroom desk was a hive of wonder that no one but Donut could possibly understand. The Party Drawer was top left and currently empty, its contents strewn across the desktop. Bottom left contained a notebook in which Donut contained details of his large friendship group. Some might call it creepy, but Donut was determined to keep his Gossip Queen status, and also to help his friends out where he could, of course. After all, he rather considered himself the glue that held them all together, although they all had their own ties.

The account began, of course, with the Reds and Blue. The notebook had basically begun way back in Elementary School, when the Reds and Blues had first met. They had been given colour-coded classes- Red, Green, Yellow and Blue. Grif, Simmons and Donut had been in the Red class- ultimate rivals of the Blues. They fought against each other in sports days, school concerts, art competitions, everything. And somehow (or possibly something to do with Church’s dad being very rich), the Reds and Blues had always been together in the same class groups since. Even to this day they continued the nicknames and the rivalries, although they had long since, grudgingly, admitted they were really friends. Doc had joined the group in Middle School. He ended up in the Blues’s class, but had never really been in either group. He had his own section in the notebook just labeled “BFF”. It had extra glitter.

And then there were the Freelancers. Donut still had that name for them in the notebook, even though they’d long since stopped using it. They had met them the first year of High School when they had formed a “Freelancer” group who tutored other students and charged for it. Eventually it was found out that they had been charging tons of money to write essays for people, and the whole thing was shut down. These days they were still infamous for the scandal, but had stayed friends at least with each other, the Reds and the Blues. 

The notebook gave brief personality descriptions and, most importantly, the various interrelationships present in the group, both historically and present. Grif and Simmons had a lot of angry faces doodled next to their section, and references to the pages in Donut’s diary where he outlined his schemes for them (Donut was only really organized in two areas of his life- cleaning and gossiping). Church and Tex’s relationship status was a mess of scribbled out descriptions. Eventually Donut had given up and summed it up by writing “break up every 2 weeks or so, but they always get back together so I think they’re safe :)” with a doodled thumbs up which resembled the Facebook “Like” symbol and a few love heart stickers.

He flicked to the Tucker-Washington page, which to this point had documented their initial animosity and frequent arguments to their current friendship and frequent arguments. Donut wrote a huge “HOLY SHIT!!!!” under his last entry for them. He added “friends worried? suspicious convos+looks??? SEXUAL TENSION U COULDN’T EVEN CUT W/ A KNIFE BC IT’S TOO DARN THICK!!!!!!” then scribbled a page reference to his diary, which he ripped out of its drawer (top right) and began to frenziedly scribble into it. He ended the entry with the words “NEW PROJECT” underlined three times.

Turning back to his party planning, he began to think of how to incorporate his new plans into the details. Guilt surged through him momentarily when he caught sight of the picture of him and Doc, remembering how he had practically promised not to match make at the party. With a dramatic sigh, Donut reached for the picture and turned it so it was facing away from him. He must do what needs to be done.


	4. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Party planning with the Franks

“Thanks for helping me, Frankie.” Donut said, beaming at his friend.

“Of course, it’s no problem,” mumbled Doc, who was sat cross-legged on Donut’s bed consulting the Party Planning Bible with a furrowed brow.

“How’s the playlist coming?”

“Oh um,” Doc fiddled with his glasses and pulled out the relevant piece of paper from the mess surrounding him, “I think it’s done, just let me know what you think and I’ll download it all.” Donut sagely considered the list, proud, and rather surprised, at Doc’s knowledge of trashy pop music.

“It’s good, do you think we should add a few romantic tracks though?” he asked nonchalantly, unwrapping another piece of candy from the pile the two had bundled upstairs with them.

            “Romantic tracks? Like for slow-dancing?”

            “Well, maybe. Just a bit more mushy, maybe towards the end of the playlist.”

            “Okay…” Doc hesitated, “Not that I don’t trust your judgment, Frank, but Church, Tex, Carolina and York aren’t really the types to slow-dance. At least not in public,” he finished. Even imagining them felt weird to Doc, like it was too intimate for them to see.

            “Nah, they’ll be in the mood! And maybe some other people…” Donut mumbled, turning half away. For one moment Doc had the wild thought that Donut was asking him to dance, but then he remembered he was speaking to his friend. His expression immediately creased into a glare.

            “ _What does that mean_?” he asked, voice getting louder. His friend whipped back around, his ears turning lightish red.

            “Nothing!” he squawked, shaking his hands in Doc’s direction.

            “You promised, asshole! No Grif and Simmons matchmaking stuff, that was the whole point of the party!” he threw one of Donut’s many cushions towards his friend, desperation creeping into his voice.

            “What if it wasn’t Grif and Simmons,” asked Donut slyly, eyes alight “Also we’re calling them Grimmons now this is non-negotiable.”

            Doc rolled his eyes at the last part before replying, he continued to glare in the face of his friend’s obvious enthusiasm, but quickly caved in the atmosphere of gossip-telling. There was something so tempting about Donut offering up his vast wealth of knowledge for him, and it wasn’t a privilege Doc wished to give up. He made a gesture of defeat, leaning backwards, softening his expression and opening his arms, inviting Donut to share whatever it was he suspected. Donut squealed and sat down on the bed next to him.

            “Okay, hear me out,” Donut said, wriggling happily.

            Doc listened patiently as Donut explained his hypothesis and he had to admit, he might have a point.

            “So you want me to help you match make at the party?” he sighed.

            “You don’t have to! I just—“ Donut solemnly took one of Doc’s hands in his own, “Want your blessing. I know I’m breaking a promise and I totally won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”

            Doc was surprised at Donut’s genuine seriousness. It felt good that his friend would respect his wishes, and Doc was momentarily distracted by affection for him, smiling warmly and unthinkingly putting his other hand on top of Donut’s. There was a moment where they just looked at each other; Donut’s serious expression melting away into something else that Doc couldn’t place.

He noticed too late that he hadn’t replied to Donut’s request, and was suddenly much too aware of how close they were sitting. He snatched his hands away and tore his gaze from his friends’, seeing Donut jerk slightly at the loss of contact and his expression change again, eyes downturned and mouth clamped shut. He looked sad, but Doc couldn’t figure out why, being far too preoccupied with his own bright red face and racing heart.

            “O-of course you have my blessing, asshole, you know I couldn’t stop you if I wanted too, anyway.” He laughed nervously, turning to see Donut nod, still looking down, “I, um,” Doc jumped up from the bed, anxiously rubbing the back of his head and grabbing his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Donut replied quietly, adding to Doc’s concern. But something in him was urging him to run, so he gave in to his instincts and took off with a hurried goodbye, trying to avoid thinking about why he felt so bad.

* * *

 

            The next day at school, everything went back to normal. Doc and Donut saw each other in history class, but after an awkward hello they passed the time passing notes and giggling at pictures in their textbooks as usual. Then they split up for the next lesson, both of them feeling significantly happier and more comfortable then they had before. The day went by without incident, at lunch Wash, Maine and Connie had been missing, doing an extra project for their English class, which Donut, and now Doc, had noticed to have an effect on Tucker’s mood.

            Mostly, the conversation focused on the party the following evening, and Donut was entirely swept up in the excitement. Doc had offered to come over early and set up, but York piped up and insisted that Wash had wanted Doc to give him a ride to the party because he lived over the other side of town. Donut assured him that it was fine, and noticed the almost relieved look that passed between York and Carolina. He guessed they were glad Wash didn’t have an excuse to back out, but Donut wasn’t offended. He knew when Wash was down he preferred to be alone, but his own private plans would ensure Wash would have the time of his life.

            Donut spent the rest of the day making his plans for the next day. Whilst not the neatest or most organized person on the planet, was very particular when it came to his parties. He had resolved to spend that evening after school cleaning his house from top to bottom, then doing a refresher Saturday afternoon before he did set-up. Decorating and preparation for food and booze would happen in the afternoon as well as setting up music.

            And, of course, there was mischief to be had, integrated at every step. Hopefully this time he wouldn’t have to resort to hanging mistletoe in doorways, especially seeing as it seemed the others suspected the same as he did. Hell, even Doc had agreed it looked as if Tucker and Wash really were pining for each other. So maybe it would only take a little push. He would keep the spare bedroom free and clean, just in case.

He sat in his room that evening, going over final plans. As it always was, he had to resist the urge to begin preparation too early, because it only stressed him out more trying to fix every detail. Instead, he forced himself to go to bed after shooting off one final text to Doc (which read “AAAAAAHHHHH TOMORROW!! :D”), and eventually went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH GOD I AM SO SORRY. I fell into a lava pile of writer's block but I REALLY wanted to put something out for you guys so this is short and not as good and I'M REALLY SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME?


	5. 4a

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part A of the partay! How will Donut's schemes turn out? Who will get together in the end? Find out in the exciting two-part conclusion!!!

The clock on the living room wall ticked closer and closer to eight. Donut watched it from his perch on the arm of the sofa, totally calmly, of course. He span his mobile phone around and around in his hands, resisting the urge to text every one of his friends to double (in some cases triple) check that they were still coming and knew how to find his house. He had done five laps around the house in the last half an hour, checking everything was clean, there was enough toilet paper stacked in the bathroom, and the kitchen contained enough alcohol and snacks to keep even Grif going for at least a week.

         Now, he had nothing left to do but sit and wait for his guests to arrive. He allowed himself a text to Doc to make sure his friend had set off to fetch Wash from the other side of town, which he could reason as a sensible and not at all over-the-top text to send. Doc replied immediately saying he was about to get in the car, and politely suggesting that Donut should maybe have a drink to himself before people arrived. Donut smiled down at his phone, thankful again that he had a best friend who always knew how to deal with his moods. He dutifully rose from his seat and made himself a vodka and coke to quell his restless excitement.

         The doorbell rang as the clock struck eight exactly. Donut was happily surprised, he couldn't think of anyone in his group of friends who could be trusted to be on time, but the last person he expected was Grif, who greeted him as he opened the door.

         "Don't look so shocked, Delano," mumbled Grif, who was already munching on chips from one of the many bags of snacks he had wedged under his arms, "This nerd insisted we got here on time to make up for your last party." Donut peered around Grif see Simmons jogging up the path to the front door, similarly laden with alcohol as Grif was with food. He remembered with nostalgic annoyance that at his last party the two had been nearly an hour late, and Donut had barely held back from hitting them. But now, he beamed at his two friends, invited them inside with a bounce in his step and instructing them where to leave the booze and snacks they had so graciously brought. Whilst he was forcefully telling Grif that he had to stick to his own snacks and not attack the buffet before everyone else had arrived, the doorbell rang again.

         "Buenos dias, cockbite." Tex was clad in black jeans, biker boots, a black vest top and black leather jacket. She greeted Donut in her usual manner before pushing past him to find the alcohol, leaving Church staring after her in the doorway.

         "I did try and make her dress up a little," he intoned hopelessly. Donut gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, simultaneously leading him into the house and towards the kitchen to get him a much needed drink, switching the music on as he did so.

         CT and Maine arrived not long after that, York and Carolina rounding the corner to the house just after they had got inside. All of them bar Maine were almost instantly roped into a drinking game being enthusiastically led by Tex. Donut didn't recognise it so he guessed it was one of her own devising, meaning that it would take all of ten minutes for everyone in the group to get absolutely shitfaced.

         Caboose's distinctive, hinge-loosening knock interrupted the loud revelries of the game at a quarter past eight, or in other terms, at Donut's second vodka and coke and CT's third tequila shot. His bulky body entered the house in the form of a massive bear hug, talking so fast that Donut was unsure that what he was saying was actually English, or an obscure language that was unique to Caboose. Donut nodded against his friend, gently suggesting that he join the others in the living room. The bigger teen enthusiastically agreed, bounding into the room and immediately tackling Church, who screamed in an undignified manner, but still managed to hastily pass his drink over to York to prevent it spilling. York, true to form, downed the drink instantly, possibly not even noticing how it had got into his hands.

         The doorbell rang, barely audible over the commotion, and Donut excused himself to welcome North and South into the house. North greeted him warmly, complimenting his home, outfit, hair. South nodded in his direction, surprisingly friendly for her, then entered the room with a cry of "Party's here, bitches, where's the vodka?"

         By this time Tex's game had ended, CT eventually having accepted defeat. Grif and Simmons were next to each other on the sofa, laughing at a joke York was telling. Donut couldn't help but notice that Grif's arm was slung over the back of the chair, perilously close to Simmons's shoulders, and wondered if maybe he could get two couples together in one night. Carolina and Tex were engaged in an intense two-person drinking game, with Church hovering behind, ready to break things up if they got too heated. North and South were talking to Maine and CT, the latter already swaying where she sat, and laughing louder than usual.

         "Well Kai would have loved to come, but I don't want bring my baby sister to a party, you know--" Grif was explaining to York.

         "Speaking of your sister, where the hell is Tucker?" Church interrupted, earning him a punch on the arm from Grif and a laugh from everyone else. On cue, Tucker peered around the corner into the room, apologising for being late, and looking as if he felt honestly bad about it.

         "It's fine, Tucker, you're still not the latest!" Donut trilled, ignoring his growing worry at the whereabouts of Doc and Wash. It was now a quarter to nine, and if Doc had set off when he said he should have been back by now, "I'm very glad you're here," Donut added, trying to replace his worry with excitement regarding the Wash and Tucker match making that was to come. Tucker looked confused, but thanked him nonetheless.

         "Who's up for another drinking game?" asked Tex, devious glint in her eye. Carolina immediately volunteered, along with South, Church (and therefore Caboose), Grif and Tucker, who said he needed to catch up. Donut was relieved to be distracted by a knock on the door, using it as an excuse to not join in with a game that apparently involved mixing together vodka, tequila and sambuca. Tucker's head had jolted up at the sound, and Donut saw Church and Carolina share a knowing look.

         Donut's fourth drink had gone straight to the "happy" centre of his brain, so when he flung the doors open with an "About time!" to greet Doc and Wash, their miserable, uncomfortable expressions were jarring. Wash gave an awkward smile without meeting Donut’s eye before pushing past him into the living room, where he didn’t respond to the cheers of the tipsy crowd and their questions, but immediately dragged CT up off the floor and into the kitchen, stricken look on his face.

         “What’s with him?” Donut asked with a nervous laugh, turning back to his friend, but Doc looked just as desperate as Wash had done. Donut’s face fell, “You’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” Without another word Doc took Donut’s wrist and dragged him upstairs to his room. Once the door was shut he seemed to get even more nervous, fiddling with his glasses and mouthing words without any sound coming out. Donut stilled him by resting his hands on his friend’s arms. Doc sighed deeply.

         “Please just tell me what’s wrong?” asked Donut softly. Doc took a few shaky breaths before blurting out:

         “Wash kissed me.”

         For a moment, Donut felt like he was falling. He convinced himself the alcohol must have addled with his hearing.

         “W-what?” he stuttered, hands still against Doc’s arms.

         “Wash kis- well not just I mean, _I_ , well, we- we kissed,” Doc forced out, on the verge of tears, “Donut?”

         “I don’t-“ began Donut, backing away, “But I don’t understand, I thought that Wash was-?”

         “No, you were right! He is in love with Tucker!” Donut looked to his friend, confused and perhaps a little accusing, “Let me explain. We were at Wash’s house and he was miserable, and we were talking, he admitted to me about Tucker. Well I was trying to comfort him because he was really upset and all of a sudden he just kissed me and I kissed back,” he was getting worked up again, voice wavering, “I don’t even know why! It was all so fast, I didn’t really get what was happening and I’m so sorry Donut,” he grabbed his friend by the shoulders, “I was confused and I’m sorry, it didn’t mean anything—“ Donut interrupted Doc’s babbling by pulling him into a tight hug. After a moment of surprise Doc hugged back, burying his face into Donut’s shoulder.

         “What are you sorry for, idiot?” Donut mumbled, slightly choked up, too.

         “I didn’t want to ruin your party.” he barked a laugh at his friend’s response and pulled away to look at him.

         “The only thing that would ruin my party is you not enjoying it.” Doc gave a watery smile.

         “You sentimental asshole,” he laughed, the added quietly, “Thanks, Frankie.”

         “Do you want to go downstairs?” Doc nodded, wiping his eyes on his shirtsleeve.

         “And now we know Wash likes him!” he says, bumping Donut’s shoulder, who laughed in response.

         “Plan is still go then?” he asked, linking arms with his friend.

         “Heck yes, those two are messed up and we need to help them,” Doc says, voice more forceful now.

            When they returned downstairs it was in much better spirits. Wash, sitting on the floor with CT, immediately looked to them, eyes begging forgiveness. They both nodded, and he released a breath, CT nudging his arm and saying something that looked, to Donut, to be “I told you it would be fine.” Donut and Doc sat down with the rest of the group, who appeared to be just wrapping up a game. They were presented with drinks from an unknown source, and Doc was dragged to the side by Simmons to help him win an argument against Grif about… something that Donut didn’t care about. He was now happily relaxed for a few minutes engaged in conversation with North, and thankful Doc and Wash seemed to be okay and everyone was having a good time.

As a few members of the group rose from their seats: CT, South and Carolina to turn up the music and start dancing, Tex, North and York to get more shots from the kitchen and Caboose to get food, Church came over to talk to Donut, holding something that looked like tickets in his hand.

“Hey man, I got these vouchers for a new restaurant in town. I was going to take Tex but apparently she hates Thai food,” he shrugged, “Who knew, right?” Donut stopped himself from mentioning that he knew that, “So, do you want them? I didn’t really want to take Tucker but you and Doc could go or something?”

“Oh!” he took the tickets gratefully, if a little taken aback, “Cool, thanks Church!” Church slinks away to join Tex, her and the others now returned from the kitchen with a bottle of vodka.

Donut did a quick scan around the room, locating everyone except Caboose, who he assumed was at the bathroom, and Grif and Simmons, who he decided he should try and find. He went to get himself another drink, spilling some as he poured it into a cup and frowning down at the liquid as if it had spilt itself. Then he heard voices from outside. Peeking his head around the doorframe, Donut could see Grif and Simmons sitting together, back against the wall of the house, sharing a cigarette.

Donut felt his heart jump- this might be the moment, and he hadn’t even influenced it! He gripped the doorframe to keep himself upright, being as quiet as possible. The two were talking softly about something that Donut couldn’t quite hear. Then Grif took the cigarette back and, exhaling loudly, began to speak just as the loud music from the house died down, someone flicking through songs.

“Do you think they’ll get together tonight?”

“I dunno man, maybe,” said Simmons, finishing the cigarette and flicking it into the drain, “Alcohol does do wonders.” Grif snorted with laughter.

“I’ll drink to that! If I had a drink. Should we get drinks?” Simmons answered affirmatively, and they both began to pull themselves up.

Donut darted back into the lounge, beaming grin on his face. It was always nice to know, when match making, that you had the support of your friends.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy guyyyyyys I am SO SORRY this has taken so long, but hey! It's finally the final chapter(s)! As you can see this has turned into a massive one so i'm splitting it up. Thank you to everyone who has commented, writers block sucks but I really want to make this a good ending!  
> I hope you enjoyed! (Part B shouldn't take too long)


	6. 4b

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thae party continues with a game of spin the bottle!

As it turns out, it had been York and Carolina switching the songs, with CT and South shouting suggestions from the sidelines. Meanwhile North and Tex were having an in depth conversation on the other side of the room, next to Tucker and Church, engaged in an intense card game that Church appeared to be winning, Doc watching with interest. Grif and Simmons had re-entered the kitchen behind Donut and were getting more drinks from the severely depleted store. Maine and Caboose were piling their plates with food, Caboose chattering happily, and Wash was on his own on the sofa.

They chose a song, earning them a cheer from some of the others. Tex dragged Church up from his card game, against Tucker’s protests, to dance with the others, leaving Tucker bitching loudly about her interruption. Wash rose up from the sofa with a determined look.

“Mind if I tag in?” he asked, faux-casual.

“Sure thing,” Tucker said, gesturing for Wash to sit with him on the floor, still glaring at Tex. Wash took the seat offered with a barely-concealed grin and picked up his cards, giving a low whistle.

“Church really was kicking your ass!” he laughed.

“Hey, shut they fuck up! I can bring this back, you’ll see,” Tucker mumbled the last part to himself, but Donut could see him and Wash both smiling down at their cards. Pleased with the situation, he gave a happy sigh, and then proceeded to drag Doc away from the buffet to dance with the others. Everyone had newly filled drinks that were going down fast, then being quickly refilled.

They moved amongst their friends, Donut immediately catching sight of Grif and Simmons on the edge of the group, Grif doing a truly terrible version of the robot, and Simmons, barely able to stand, doing what could only be described as “dad dancing”. Then again, Donut admitted, Doc’s dancing wasn’t much better, although he was slightly more sober.

The whole group (including Maine, who, Donut was surprised to find, was actually a pretty good dancer) danced together for three or four songs, and in most cases one or two drinks, before a slower track came on and they began to break apart. The ensuing quiet chatter was broken by an uproariously drunk Tex.

“Okay, assholes, spin the bottle!” she slurred, shoving CT and Tucker (who were on either side on her), down to the floor, encouraging the rest to form a circle. Donut was thrilled, although he could see Doc was uncomfortable, and Wash too. So far things were going swimmingly, he hadn’t realized just putting Wash and Tucker in a party environment would yield such good results with no effort on his part.

“Refills first!” yelled South. It wasn’t that she was angry; she was just a shouty kind of drunk.

As she staggered into the kitchen Carolina took a spot on the floor next to Donut, glancing around surreptitiously as she did so.

“Hey, um, Donut?” she said, leaning in towards him as she did so, “I have these movie tickets for next week but York isn’t free, do you want them?”

“Oh!” exclaimed Donut, the suspicion that was growing in his mind broke through the murky surface of alcohol, prompting him to ask, “I mean thank you but, why me?”

“Look,” Carolina shuffled closer still, “It’s one of those mushy romance movies. I kinda didn’t want anyone else to know.” she looked genuinely embarrassed. Donut nodded in a manner that he hoped looked wise and understanding, and not like a bobble head.

“So you have two tickets?”

“Yeah, you can take Doc!” and with that and a slap on Donut’s back Carolina was gone, moving back to sit with York, all traces of embarrassment gone.

It took a moment for Donut’s brain to catch up. Funny for her to assume he would give Doc the other ticket, his friend wasn’t known for a love of romances. She had probably meant that she also trusted Doc not to tell people about the tickets. Yeah, that must be it.

Five minutes later, refills handed out and Donut had forgotten about his doubts, instead watching the game of spin the bottle progress gleefully. So far there had been some over-the-top making out by York and North while the rest of the group catcalled, a juvenile display by Tucker and Church who barely even touched each other before freaking out, Church going so far as to actually wash his mouth in the kitchen, and Donut had kissed CT.

He was exceedingly irritated when Grif and Simmons’s turn ended in a quick peck before both of them returned to their seats, totally unfazed. It didn’t matter though, they weren’t his objective tonight. Instead he watched closely for Tucker’s reaction when Wash kissed Maine, and similarly for when Tucker kissed Carolina. The results, however, weren’t very interesting, just like the kisses. So Donut sat tight and just hoped the group wouldn’t get bored of the game. He did make a note of both South and CT’s blushes when they were chosen, but that was a project for another day.

As everyone started to get restless, the group decided this would be the last round they would play before moving on, much to Donut’s disappointment. After all, what were the chances that the _very last turn_ would land on—

“Ay, Tucker again!” Church shouted the bottle’s result jubilantly. Tucker groaned over-dramatically.

“Please not Grif, Please not Grif...” he mumbled as York went to spin again, earning him a thrown handful of peanuts from Grif.

The turning bottle was watched with suspense by all. It slowed down by Maine, inciting a few giggles; everyone knew Tucker was still kind of terrified by him. It made its way just past the hulking, stoic teenager, and came to rest on Wash. The group was silent. Wash tried and failed to look nonchalant, while Tucker unconvincingly celebrated the fact that it didn’t land on Grif.

They inched closer together painfully slowly. Donut’s heart pumped loudly in his throat, and he took a moment to remind himself it wasn’t him that was being kissed. Tucker, the drunker of the two, let his eyes flicker shut, and Wash followed suit, nervously licking his lips. For a moment, they were perfectly still, lips just touching. Then their mouths slowly moved against one another’s, Wash’s hands coming up to rest on Tucker’s shoulders, oblivious to their surroundings, and their friends sitting, enraptured, at the sight.

The mixture of drunkenness and anticipation of the moment made the quiet scene almost surreal. The kiss wasn’t hurried, awkward or passionate, but sweet and slow. For some reason, this thought made Donut tear his eyes away and instead find Doc, across the circle from himself. Doc’s expression was different to everyone else’s. It was shocked and, it seemed to Donut, almost… sad? Maybe longing was the word he was looking for. He felt his stomach drop, the magic of the moment ruined by the thought that maybe Doc and Wash’s kiss had meant more to Doc than he had let on. After all, they had been close friends for a long time. Donut tried desperately to put the thought to the back of his mind, and be happy that his matchmaking appeared to be successful.

At that moment the couple in the middle of the circle broke apart, and after the brief second that it took for romance to fizzle into awkwardness, they had both sprang up, bright red, stuttering excuses and running in separate directions, leaving the onlookers a mixture of disappointed, worried, shocked and confused. The rest of the group also stumbled up from their positions, either moving on to other activities or to follow either Tucker or Wash. All except Church, who was being ignored as he babbled about wanting to play another round.

It was a few minutes later when Wash and Tucker re-entered the room (one from the kitchen, the other from the hall). They pointedly ignored each other, instead joining their friends in whatever activities they had taken up. Tex’s drinking game had rapidly devolved into “everyone take as many shots as they can”, resulting in the entire party increasing their drunkenness by at least double. The only ones avoiding this state were Maine, being a designated driver, who was protectively looking over Wash and CT, North, who could sense that the need for him to be “party dad” would soon be imminent, and was chugging water in the kitchen, Doc, who was trying to avoid a repeat of Donut’s birthday party, and Caboose, because alcohol hardly affected him anyway.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Church choked out, coughing over his last shot of tequila, “Let’s go dance,” he dragged up Tex despite her complaints that the game hadn’t finished. The rest of the party also rose up, someone cranking up the current fast-paced pop song that was playing. Just then, perfectly timed, thought Donut, although it was pure coincidence, the playlist moved on to the slow tracks. Instead of immediately sitting down or changing the track, the group, thankfully, just paired off, drunk enough not to complain. Despite Doc’s doubts, Carolina and York were happily swaying in time, laughing at whatever jokes York was telling and occasionally breaking apart to do a slow version of the robot, or pretend to tango. Not conventional, but sweet.

CT and South were leant up against each other, probably the only reason neither of them had yet fallen over. Others were still moving around the edges, talking amongst themselves. Church and Tex, however, had Donut’s attention. They were dancing closely, his arms around her hips and hers around his neck, foreheads touching, looking into each other’s eyes.

“Like they can’t see anyone but each other,” Donut thought out loud to Doc, who nodded in agreement, “And it might be the longest they’ve ever been without arguing.”

Not dancing were Tucker and Grif, who were talking on the sofa. As Donut watched, they both got up to fetch food, very unsteadily. With a gleam in his eye that was out of place on his laconic face, Grif barreled in Tucker, sending him flying into Wash, who was drifting at the edge of the dancers. He caught him on instinct, as the other boy shouted expletives at his friend. Grif merely shrugged, grabbing Simmons’s arm and dragging him to dance.

Wash, not noticing that Donut was watching from across the room, nods sheepishly towards the dance, inviting Tucker to join him. He replied with a genuine, if drunken, smile, and they danced similarly to Church and Tex, Tucker’s arms on Wash’s shoulders and Wash’s around Tucker’s hips.

Without noticing, Donut and Doc had been swaying in time together, and had drifted into the crowd of dancers. Then suddenly, South bumped them with a hurried apology, meaning the two were now only inches apart. Doc had caught one of Donut’s hands in his own to stop them falling. From the corner of his eye Donut could see Grif peeking at them from over Simmons’s shoulder. Carolina was also glancing over, Church was openly staring, and even Maine and North had looked around from the doorframe of the kitchen. The alarm bells that had been dully ringing in Donut’s alcohol-soaked mind all night now came to the forefront.

“Doc, could I talk to you outside?” he murmured to his friend. Whatever was going on Doc was definitely not involved. He began to drag his friend towards the hallway, through the others.

“AH!” shouted Church as they reached the doorway. Donut turned to see what he was yelling about, but was instead faced with the whole room staring, Church frantically gesturing at something above their heads. Donut raised his head, terrified of what he would see. There, stuck in the frame above him and Doc was—

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO I SUCK I KNOW I SUCK I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO GODDAMN LONG
> 
> Also I changed my mind again BUT good news, it's all written, but it came out REALLY long so I split it again. Next (and DEFINITELY last) part will be up within the next half hour, because I keep getting distracted by Miss Congeniality 2 while i'm trying to edit. True story.


	7. 4c

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PARTY CONCLUSION

“MISTLETOE?!” Donut screeches, turning back to his guests who are all suddenly looking sheepish, “Alright, what the hell is going on here?” none of them replied. Donut tried to catch their eyes; Church looked back defiantly, Grif looked bored and Wash and Tucker just confused.

“Restaurant vouchers, cinema tickets, spin the bottle, slow dancing, mistletoe? You-you’re all using my methods against me!” he came to the realization mid-accusation, “But—but—“ he spluttered, “But Tucker and Wash!” he finished, pointing desperately at the two.

“Uh, us?” Tucker asked, Wash looking equally as bewildered.

“Look, we can explain—“ Carolina began, but was cut off by Donut.

“Alright, how many of you are in on this… whatever it is?” he said, swinging his arms madly, smacking the side of his hand on the sideboard in the effort. The room of people shared hesitant looks before all raising their hands, except Wash, Tucker and Caboose, who was happily eating cookies on the sofa, watching the proceedings like it was a TV show.

“Church and Carolina I’m assuming you’re the ringleaders here, explain!” he demands, barely holding back from shouting.

Whilst the two accused muttered, another voice piped up from the back of the room.

“Actually, that would be us.” said Grif around a mouthful of chips, Simmons standing next to him, at least having the good decency to look ashamed.

“YOU?!” Donut exploded, “YOU made plans and then acted on them?” he threw his head back and laughed, “This must be some weird dream.”

“Look,” began Grif, swallowing the mouthful of food, “We were all sick of you two dancing around each other all the time, you weren’t following your own advice so we… helped.” he finished pathetically, shoving another handful of chips into his mouth with a shrug. Everyone else nodded in agreement.

“Uh…” Donut grasped for the last plausible alternative to what was happening, “You mean Wash and Tucker, though, right?”

“Oh, them too,” Church interjected, “We were kind of hoping we could get all four of you together.” Wash was overdramatically offended, natural melodrama emphasized by the amount he had had to drink, one hand clutching his chest, mouth hanging open. Carolina, taking note of Donut’s balled fists, put herself between him and Church.

“We sort of used Tucker and Wash to get you to throw a party and put together all of this romantic stuff so that we could get you,” she gestured at him and Doc, “Uh, together.” she grimaced.

Donut suddenly felt very self-conscious in the staring room, retreating a little and carefully not looking at Doc, loosing all the anger he had had moments before. That anger, it seemed, had travelled seamlessly into Tucker.

“You guys WHAT?!” he shouted.

“Calm down, it’s not as bad as it sounds—“ Church started dismissively.

“Oh, because you using my crush on Wash to try and set up Donut and Doc sounds pretty fucking bad, Church!”

“Shut the fuck up, you big baby,” said Church flippantly without looking at Tucker, “We knew you would get together eventually, might as well use it to help Donut in the meantime.”

Tucker looked too angry to speak. Wash, on the other hand, was looking down at Tucker with a mixture of surprise and hope.

“Your… what, on me?” he asked quietly. Tucker immediately deflated, eyes widening as he span around to face Wash.

“I, uh, I meant. Um—“ he floundered, “Oh, you know what, fuck it.” he grabbed Wash’s face, kissing him fiercely, and Wash kissed back in earnest, unable to stop smiling as he did so.

There was a synchronized “Aw” from CT, North, Carolina and York, and a grumbled “Fuckin’ told you so” from Church.

“Yeah?” asked Tucker quietly when they broke apart, breathing heavily.

“Yeah.” replied Wash, still looking at the other boy like he couldn’t believe his luck. Tucker coughed awkwardly and took a step back, turning to Donut and Doc.

“So what the fuck is going on here?” he asked, back to his usual bravado, but keeping one hand tangled in Wash’s.

“We were trying to set them up by getting them to match-make you two idiots.” Carolina sighed.

“But—“ Doc faltered, realizing how long it had been since he had spoken as all eyes swiveled to him, “If you needed a matchmaking project, why not Grif and Simmons?” Surprisingly, it was Grif who answered.

“Oh, we knew you were giving up on us, so we thought something fresh would be better. Plus with those two it was more authentic.”

“What do you mean, _authentic_?” asked Donut.

“Well me and Simmons have been dating for months,” said Grif nonchalantly, taking Simmons’s hand to prove the point while the other boy simply rolled his eyes. There was a beat before anyone spoke.

“WHAT?!” screamed Donut, and he wasn’t the only one.

“What the fuck?” said Tucker, at the same time as-

“Wait, what?” from Church and

“That’s nice!” from Caboose, still in his corner of the room.

“Yeah, all those dates you sent us on were pointless, dude. But we didn’t want to give you the satisfaction. And we liked the free dates.” he shrugged.

“You are… all assholes.” Donut said disbelievingly.

“You’re just realizing this now?” Simmons asked sarcastically.

“Just give me a minute, come on Doc.” Donut said, pulling Doc out of the room and up the stairs.

Donut seething as he entered his bedroom, and immediately began pacing up on down, ranting to Doc as he did so.

“Can you believe them! What _dicks_ , I mean we knew they were dicks but seriously, they are total dicks! How dare they lie to me like that! Assholes!”

He was stopped in his tracks by Doc grabbing his shoulders, forcing him to pause and finally look his friend in the eye.

“Should we talk?” he asked quietly. Donut went into panic mode, the pressure of the elephant in the room crushing him.

“About what?” he laughed unconvincingly.

“Oh,” Doc looked disappointed, backing away, “Look, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to go, sorry Donut.” the panic rose again, forcing Donut’s mouth open before he could think through what he was going to say.

“No, wait!” he caught Doc’s arm. The other boy’s eyes were watering, which he was futilely trying to hide.

“No, it’s best if I go.” he asked, voice choked up.

Donut’s mind was racing. He knew he couldn’t let Doc leave, but didn’t understand what he was trying to achieve by making him stay. He thought about how Doc had known what to do to make him feel better about Grif and Simmons, how he’d been okay with Donut breaking his no-match making promise, and even helped him with his project, how it felt so good to be close with him, how naturally they had danced with each other, why he was the only one who could call him—

“Frankie?” said Doc, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.

Donut’s head shot up, realization and relief dawning in his mind.

“I think they’re right,” said Donut softly, seeing the confusion rise on the other boy’s face, “I think I—I mean, we—“ he faltered, not knowing how to explain. But Doc’s expression was now mirroring how Wash had looked earlier- hopeful.

Donut placed his hands either side of his friend’s face, deciding he spoke better through actions than words. With his heart racing, he leant forward, capturing Doc’s lips with his own. Doc sighed with relief against Donut’s mouth before kissing back enthusiastically. Donut felt his entire body crackle with energy, which he poured into the kiss, craving more of the feeling. He felt a little light-headed, only able to hear the sound of the blood rushing around his head and his own ragged breathing. It was as if every worry in the world had lifted from him, leaving him light as air. He couldn’t even think of how long he had wanted this for, and how he had hidden it so effectively from himself for so long.

They broke the kiss, gasping for breath. Doc broke the silence with a laugh that could only be described as joyful, relief clearly etched onto his face and still-watery eyes. Donut joined in the laughter, mainly out of relief, kissing the other boy again and again.

“Frankie, I think they’re right!” Donut repeated, forehead pressed against Doc’s, who was laughing through more tears, “I think I love you,” he whispered, a laugh pressing up again in his throat, stifled when Doc threw himself against him pushing their lips together again, glasses bumping awkwardly against Donut’s nose.

When they broke apart they sat down on the bed, hands entangled and grins plastered to their faces.

“I guess we should go back downstairs, they’ll be worried us,” said Doc, “And I suppose we need to tell them they were right,” he added.

“ _Or_ ,” a horrifyingly familiar glint appeared in Donut’s eye, “We could… drag it out a little?”

“And what does that mean?” Doc groaned, already dreading the answer.

“Well we could not tell them! As punishment for them being assholes to us.”

“That’s a bit mean, Frankie…” he said, trying to hold back the tide of his boyfriend’s scheming mind, “They were only doing what you usually do.” Donut scrunched up his nose.

“Just for a little while--?”

“No,” said Doc with a tone of finality, standing up, “Let’s go put them out of their misery.” he dragged Donut up off the bed, ignoring the other boy’s drawn out groan.

“ _Fine_ ,” Donut conceded, “But only for you.” he added, giving Doc a small kiss to his lips. They both smiled, still holding hands.

Donut opened the door, then immediately screeched in a mixture of shock and anger as a multitude of bodies tumbled through the doorway, swearwords and apologies equally mixed.

South, North and York were halfway down the stairs, trying to look as if they hadn’t been joining in. Caboose was at the base of the stairs, obviously just coming to see where everyone else had gone. As for the rest of them…

“Grif, you fat fuck get _off_ ,” Simmons groaned, at the bottom of the pile.

“It’s not my fault! Church pushed me!”

“I did not you lying little shit—“

“Wash I know we’re together now, but this is a little _fast_ don’t you think?”

“Shut up, Tucker, I think I might have broken something.”

“Oh stop being so melodramatic.” interjected CT, who was being picked clean up off the floor by Maine, who had managed to stay upright.

“Carolina your hair is in my mouth,”

“I can’t control how my hair falls, Tex. Tell your idiot boyfriend to get off me,”

“Hey! This was your idea—“

“It _was not_ that’s a lie, Donut he’s lying, I swear—“

“ _Will someone please get Grif off of me._ ”

“YOU’RE ALL ASSHOLES!” shouted Donut over the chaos, but at the sight of Doc, bent double laughing, his anger dissipated a little. Doc had been right; they were only doing what he usually did. He heaved a sigh, “Come on, idiots, you’re going to kill Simmons if you don’t get up.” he lent a hand to Church and Wash, and soon the group was on their feet, muttering apologies to Donut.

“Oh, you guys,” Donut sighed, taking Doc’s hand in his own, “I think I should probably say sorry for all the match making stuff,”

“Here here!” called Grif, swearing loudly when Tex punched him in the arm.

“And, “ continued Donut, “Thank you. You’re right, I wasn’t taking my own advice and, uh,” he glanced over to Doc, who was beaming at him, “Thank you guys.”

“It was our pleasure!” slurred South, who had come back up the stairs when it was clear they weren’t being yelled at any more.

“You guys are all still assholes,” he clarified, “But I guess I’m an asshole too, so it’s okay.”

“You are an asshole,” Church agreed.

“Thank you too, Donut,” said Tucker, “For helping me and Wash. Let’s not get mushy about this,” he added, noticing that a few eyebrows had been raised.

“And thank you for the free dates!” Grif added, effectively ruining the mood.

“THIS IS SUCH A GREAT PARTY! EVERYONE IS KISSING AND HAPPY!” shouted Caboose, who barreled up the stairs and jumped into a tackle-hug that enveloped Wash, Church, and finally Donut and Doc, who were completely winded before being crushed against the tall boy’s chest.

“Group hug!!!” Caboose yelled to the rest of the group who, after a moment of deliberation, decided the happy mood and their drunken state were elevated enough to excuse the show of emotion, threw themselves onto the outside of the huddle.

Within the stiflingly hot and highly uncomfortable crush of bodies, Donut and Doc caught each other’s eye and shared a smile. Maybe, Donut thought, this was the end of his matchmaking days. But whatever happened, it was always good to know you had the support of your friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat a mushy ending. Such fluff. Goodness me. 
> 
> I want to hug each and every one of you that has read this thing ESPECIALLY those of you that read chapter one when it first came out and have waiting THIS LONG for the ending, I am so sorry, I love you soooo much, I hope this was okay???
> 
> THANK YOU GUYS. WE MADE IT.
> 
> (Also I finished editing this just before the drag club scene came on. Be glad, or it might not have gone up tonight.)


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